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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27893950">Eleven and Counting</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/madmorr/pseuds/madmorr'>madmorr</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Euphoria (TV 2019)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Body Dysphoria, Childhood Friends, Drug Dealing, F/F, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 16:48:35</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,996</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27893950</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/madmorr/pseuds/madmorr</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Twenty-five year old Jules catches a glimpse of her childhood friend...</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Rue Bennett/Jules Vaughn</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>82</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>At first Jules thought she’d just had too much to drink. Or maybe she’d popped a pill a friend gave her without thinking. Or the flashing strobe lights in the packed club were playing tricks on her eyes. Because each of those options was distinctly more probable than the possibility that what she was seeing was actually real. But she knew those loose, dark curls. And that tall, lanky frame. All the way down to the black high tops, even if they were a few sizes bigger than the last time she’d seen them. </p><p>So without a second thought, she followed, weaving her way through the crowd quickly, bumping carelessly into people in her rush as she tried not to lose sight of her. She knew she should tell her friends where she was going, she knew she shouldn’t abandon them to chase after some stranger. Only this wasn’t a stranger. She was almost certain. </p><p>Her hasty pursuit came to an abrupt halt as she exited the club and emerged onto the sidewalk. She’d been so intent on catching up that she hadn’t given an ounce of thought to what she would actually say. Jules spotted her down the sidewalk a ways, standing at the fringes of the light cast from a street lamp so her face was partially shadowed. She was talking with a couple of people who looked like they were about to enter the club. Something exchanged hands, money was pocketed, and they parted ways. A light sprinkling of rain began to fall and Jules watched her pull her hood up over her head. She leant against the telephone pole and her face lit up in the glow of her phone. Jules could see her thumbs tapping away rapidly. She was pocketing her phone and starting to walk away when Jules finally found her voice. </p><p>“Rue?”</p><p>— — —</p><p>
  <em>Jules was born breeched. That meant she came out of her mom backwards, ass first. Sometimes Jules thought that’s where it all started. She and her dad joked that it was her “ass-first curse”, because that’s how everything in her life always felt. Backwards.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Her mom never laughed at that joke, she would stay quiet and press her lips together and frown a little. Maybe she felt like Jules was blaming her for the way she “turned out”. Jules tried not to, she really did, but sometimes she just needed someone to blame besides herself.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Because she’d spent all eleven of her years hating the backwardness. From the things she was told she was supposed to be and what she really wanted, to the way her mom said she loved her but had a funny way of showing it. All the way to the position she was lying in on her little cot in the psychiatric hospital she was currently trapped in. Her feet in her Hello Kitty socks were resting on the pillow at the top of the cot and her head at the end as she stared upward. The ceiling looked more interesting from this angle. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>She’d learned that sometimes, if she laid really, really still for a long time, she could almost forget she had a body. It wasn’t necessarily fun or comfortable, because the less she moved her body, the faster her mind raced, but it was like a little sliver of relief to forget her physical form for a moment. Being a whole entire human with a brain and body just felt excessive. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Jellyfish. Now that was an enviable life form. No brain, no heart, no bones, just a squishy little creature floating around in the ocean in a body that was 95 percent water. Jules liked to think about what it would be like if her body was 95 percent air. It would be like she was barely there, which sounded pretty nice. Or at least better than the constant, inescapable fixation on how her body felt, the way it looked in the mirror, the way it looked to other people. Jules imagined the feeling of weightlessness and let it fill her up until she felt like she was floating.<br/>
But her moment of bliss was cut short by a sudden commotion in the hall. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Jules loved commotion. She liked watching chaos take place somewhere beyond the confines of her own brain and body. So she stood up and padded over to the doorway. The cold of the linoleum floor under her feet made her shiver as she peeped her head around the door to see what was going on. One RA in blue scrubs was struggling to control a new arrival and calling desperately for reinforcements. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>The kid was really giving hell, looking like a mess of wild curls and thrashing limbs while screaming obscenities. She even got a good bite on the RA’s forearm before more staff descended. Jules had a strange urge to call out, to say that it would be over faster if she just stopped fighting, but she didn’t. Partly because she knew how much it sucked to be told that everything’s fine when nothing at all seems okay in your world. But she also stayed quiet simply because she was so in awe. She watched as the adults wrestled the kid onto a stretcher and strapped her down all while she screamed and screamed. She was screaming for her dad, the way Jules had screamed for her mom. Jules remembered that feeling of abandonment, the feeling of being trapped all alone. The stretcher was being wheeled up the hall now. As it passed her room, she and the distressed new arrival made eye contact, just for a second. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>— </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Why don’t you introduce yourself to the group, Rue?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Rue looked across the circle at Dr. Kay with disdain. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Well, you just told them all my name so I don’t really see the point,” Rue mumbled.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>She sat with her legs tucked up against her body, her arms wrapped around them, and her chin resting on her knees. She was tall when standing, but she looked tiny when she sat like that. Like a little egg, Jules thought. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Well, why don’t you tell us about something that’s been bothering you lately. Anything at all. Sometimes it helps to name our fears or frustrations out loud.” Dr. Kay suggested.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Well, I guess I’ve been through some like, pretty fucked up stuff lately,” Rue answered. “And there’s this one memory that’s kind of been haunting me.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Can you describe the memory?” Dr. Kay prompted, leaning forward with her pen poised above her notepad. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Rue nodded and closed her eyes, seeming to prepare herself to recall the memory.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I remember feeling trapped,” she began, keeping her eyes closed as she spoke, then her eyebrows knitted together in a frown and she sighed. “Sorry, it’s sort of hard for me to talk about.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Don’t worry Rue, this is a safe space,” Dr. Kay encouraged.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Well, I remember a bunch of people surrounding me and grabbing me and pinning me down,” Rue continued. “It was like one of my worst fears coming true. I was being kidnapped and held against my will.” The troubled frown on Rue’s face cleared suddenly and inexplicably became a wry smile. “And then they put these weird mitt things on my hands.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Jules couldn’t help the giggle that escaped her when she realized what Rue was talking about. And Dr. Kay’s face when she realized she was being played made it even funnier.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Rue’s eyes opened immediately and focused on her. Jules worried for a second that she had offended her, but then Rue offered her a slight smirk. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Jules decided then and there that they were friends. It didn’t matter that they didn’t know each other yet, she already knew they understood each other.<br/>
</em></p><p><em>— </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Jules pulled absentmindedly at a thread of gauze from the bandage wrapped around her forearm from the soda can incident last week as she stared down at the tray of unappetizing food in front of her: a pile of soggy corn, a heap of lumpy instant mashed potatoes, some dry chicken, and an oatmeal cookie. She plucked the cookie from her tray and discreetly passed it to Rue next to her, who passed it under the table to Jackson across from them. Jackson wolfed it down, destroying the evidence quickly. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Apparently Jackson’s mom had given the staff strict instructions not to feed him any refined sugar, claiming that it made his hyperactivity worse. But as Rue put it, depriving kids of sugar is basically child abuse, so they snuck him dessert whenever they could.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Rue, did I just see you give Jackson your cookie?” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>She and Jules turned to look up at Allan, one of the staff members who had appeared behind them and whose size and deep voice made him seem a lot more intimidating than he really was.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“No sir, my cookie’s right there,” Rue answered innocently, pointing to her tray. “Jackson’s not allowed to have sugar. We all know that.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Jules nodded to back her up, barely holding back a laugh. Rue was good at lying. Like, really good. She and Jules had that in common. Rue didn’t have a tell. She didn’t break eye contact, or bite her lip, or fidget. She’d look someone dead in the eye as she lied, as if she was challenging them to question her. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Allan looked at them sternly for a moment before he shook his head and chuckled good-naturedly.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“You two,” he sighed, still shaking his head as he started to walk away. “Y’all are really too much.”<br/>
</em></p><p><em>—</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Why do you do that?” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Step on a crack, break your mother’s back,” Rue muttered in reply as she tiptoed carefully across the cafeteria toward the door for their outdoor recreation, stepping only in the center of the linoleum tiles and avoiding the cracks in between. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Here,” Jules said, stepping in front of Rue and motioning for her to get on her back. “Hop up.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“What about your mom’s back?” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Jules shrugged. “She deserves it for leaving me here,” she said, although she knew she didn’t mean it.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Rue smiled shyly, then jumped up for a piggyback ride. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“C’mon, your turn,” Rue said, hopping off once they were outside on the grass.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Um, no, that’s okay.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“No, c’mon,” Rue urged. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“No, really, I’m good,” Jules mumbled, shuffling her feet uncomfortably.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Why not?” Rue asked. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I’m just, like, too heavy for you to carry,” she practically whispered, her face beginning to burn with shame.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“What do you mean?” Rue asked in a confused tone. “We’re like, the exact same size.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Jules huffed impatiently, looking her friend up and down. She was tall and gangly, thin as a rail.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“No we’re not,” Jules countered stubbornly, then turned and started walking away, hoping Rue would just drop it. But she heard Rue take a few hurried steps to catch up and then she stepped in front of Jules to stop her in her tracks. Rue didn’t say anything, but looked at her with searching eyes. Jules didn’t know what answers she was looking for. She didn’t realize how tightly she had her arms wrapped around herself until Rue reached out and tugged her forearm away from her body so she could lace their fingers together. Then she turned and started walking, pulling Jules along with her from where their hands were joined.<br/>
</em></p><p><em>—</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Jules noticed that Rue worried a lot, about a lot of different and very specific things. About car crashes, plane crashes, being murdered, her sister dying, her mom dying, her dad dying. Maybe it was only because she was so preoccupied with all those other worries, but one thing Rue didn’t ever seem to worry about was how other people thought about her. And Jules liked that.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Rue seemed to be okay during the day. Not like okay okay obviously, no one at the Unit was really okay, but she was getting through the days without major mishaps.   Nighttime was a different story though. She was really putting the night staff through hell, and to be honest, everyone else in the Unit. Her panic attacks were loud and violent. The sleep deprivation situation got bad enough that the staff were starting to lose their patience. Ordinarily there was probably some rule against kids with differing sex chromosomes sharing a room, but the staff seemed to be getting desperate and since Jules and Rue were peas in a pod during the day, they decided to try out a solution. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>And that’s how Rue ended up sharing a room with Jules. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>—</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“What’re you doing?” Rue asked her one night before bed. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Praying.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“You believe in God?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>She didn’t really, but she also didn’t like to say that out loud in case God overheard, so she just shrugged. She supposed she believed in God about as much as she believed in Hello Kitty, meaning that it was an unrealistic but comforting character in her mind. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Jules finished her standard prayer and climbed into bed next to Rue. The narrow cots barely fit one person, but they made it work. The cot against the other wall which was supposed to be Rue’s was six feet away and that was just too far.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“What did you pray for?” Rue asked. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Jules didn’t know exactly how to answer that. She’d been doing the same prayer since she was five years old.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Just. To be....not here,” she answered carefully.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Rue nodded. “So where would you be if you could be anywhere?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Jules thought for a moment. It wasn’t really the location that mattered, she decided. It was more of a question of when and who rather than where. She just wanted to be older, in a different time and a different body.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Because her body was a ticking time bomb. She felt it in every beat of her heart. At any moment, puberty could hit and send unwanted hormones coursing through her body, making it even more unrecognizable to her than it already was. Sometimes she wanted time to slow down to delay puberty as long as possible. Other times she wanted time to speed up, so she’d turn 13 faster and be able to start transitioning. And sometimes she just wanted time to stop altogether. Those were the times when she started to look for something sharp.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“In 2026,” she answered finally. “I’ll be 25. Living in New York probably. I always pray I’ll wake up and I’ll be there.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Rue stayed quiet. Maybe she thought it was stupid to pray for things that would never happen.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Where would you be, if you could be anywhere?” Jules asked to break the silence.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“At home,” Rue answered without hesitation. “My little sister is turning 7 tomorrow. Every year on her birthday I give her a kiss on her forehead for every year she’s been alive. But I can’t this year. I’ve never missed her birthday before.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Is she coming for family day? You can give her the kisses then.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Rue shook her head impatiently.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“It has to be on her actual birthday, when she’s exactly 7 years old. Otherwise it’s bad luck. Family day isn’t till Wednesday and by then she’ll be 7 years and 4 days old. And I can’t give her 7 and 4/365ths of a kiss.”  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Rue had started to cry and her breathing was quickening.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Yes you can,” Jules countered swiftly, hoping to quell Rue’s panic before it ran away with her. “Try it right now, on me,” she encouraged. “Try giving me 4/356ths of a kiss. It just has to be very, very soft. Like, barely there,” she reasoned.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Rue wiped at her tears and took a deep, stuttering breath.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Okay,” she agreed hesitantly, then leaned forward slowly.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Jules closed her eyes and felt just the tiniest whisper of Rue’s lips against her forehead. It tickled, making her giggle. And then Rue was laughing too as they fell into each other, hugging as they laughed.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>—</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Rue? Are you asleep?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Yes.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Do you think this place will fix you?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“No.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>The word hung there in the darkness, but it wasn’t heavy or sad. She said it as a matter of fact.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Do you think it will fix me?” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I dunno...” Rue sighed sleepily, then lapsed into silence long enough that Jules thought she’d fallen back to sleep and was surprised when she spoke again.<br/>
“I don’t really think you need to be fixed.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Rue’s words were muffled by the pillow but Jules felt them more than she heard them. And they felt like love. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>One of Jules’ favorite therapists always said, “if you can’t love yourself, how in the hell you gonna love somebody else?” She liked the sentiment of it but wasn’t sure she really agreed. It’s kind of shitty to be told that on top of your crippling self-hatred, you’re also incapable of feeling love for others. But Jules forgave Ru Paul for that, since he wasn’t actually a licensed therapist anyway.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Love you,” Jules said into the darkness.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Love you too,” came a muffled reply.<br/>
</em></p><p>
  <em>—<br/>
</em>
</p><p><em>And then she was gone. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>The first thing Jules thought when she woke up to find the space next to her empty was that Rue got her wish. She got to go home. Allan confirmed this when she asked him, saying that Rue’s mom had arrived very early in the morning to take her home. And that was it.</em>
</p><p><em>But Jules never really stopped wondering why Rue didn’t say goodbye.</em><br/>
</p><p>— — —</p><p>“Rue Bennett?” Jules asked, although she didn’t need to. She was sure.</p><p>“Look, you don’t get a discount cuz you know my name,” Rue answered, eyeing Jules with suspicion.</p><p>“No, um, it’s me. Jules.” </p><p>She watched Rue look her up and down and saw recognition flash momentarily in her eyes before it was replaced by a steely, guarded defiance.</p><p>“I don’t know a Jules,” she said, looking her straight in the eyes. “If you want something you better speak now, I have places to be.”</p><p>Jules stood in stunned silence, unable to move or speak, even as she watched Rue turn her back and walk away. Leaving her for the second time.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Jules finds the person she was looking for. And someone she wasn't.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“You look wreaked,” Kal observed from across the work table as he carefully pinned a garment.</p><p>Jules shrugged and continued measuring the fabric in front of her. She knew she couldn’t tell her friends she’d spent the last several nights out late wandering the streets of New York looking for someone without them questioning her mental health. </p><p>“Are you coming out with us tonight?” he asked, looking up at her expectantly. </p><p>“Where to?” Jules humored him, pretending to consider it.</p><p>“We’re meeting Sasha and Vincent in Brooklyn for drinks.” </p><p>“I’ll think about it,” Jules placated, but had already decided against it. She had plans on the Lower East Side.</p><p>“Okaaaaaay little miss hard-to-get,” Kal sassed. </p><p>Jules laughed and sat up, arching her back to stretch it out after a long period of sitting hunched over her work. Yawning, she decided it was time for another cup of coffee. </p><p>“Want anything?” she asked Kal as she stood. </p><p>“Nope,” Kal answered through a bunch of pins tucked in the corner of his mouth where he held them as he adjusted the fabric. </p><p>Jules grabbed her coat from the hook by the door and opted to take the stairs rather than the elevator down. After a quick stop at the cafe in the lobby, she escaped to the fresh air on the street.<br/>
Her breath formed visible clouds in the cold December air and her fingers twitched automatically toward her coat pocket in search of her usual cigarette, but she remembered they weren’t there and sighed, wrapping both hands around her coffee cup instead.</p><p>She settled for people-watching as she sipped her coffee, but it wasn’t the relaxing, mindless pastime it usually was. She couldn’t stop herself from searching, doing a double take everytime someone with long, dark curls passed. It had been a couple of months since she quit smoking so her body had acclimated to the lack of nicotine, but she still missed having a physical ritual to take her mind off things.</p><p>The act of smoking required a deep inhale, a pause, and then a long exhale. It was a more conscious way of breathing which, in addition to the nicotine, felt good. For a while, it felt like the only way she could breathe deep. Of course, at the same time, it destroyed the lungs, killing the fragile tissues that she needed to live. That’s how it always was, her life. A delicate balance of simultaneously dying and trying to stay alive. Until last week, she had felt, maybe for the first time in her life, like the balance was tipped more toward the latter. </p><p>But then, Rue. Rue appeared, looked at her, and left. Now Jules felt like her life depended on one thing: finding her again. </p><p>I should have stopped her from walking away, she thought for the millionth time. Why didn’t I go after her? Was that the only chance the universe was going to give me? Will I ever see her again? </p><p>Jules tried to avoid the scarier questions like, why had Rue pretended not to recognize her? Had Jules just imagined the depth of the connection they shared for that brief moment in their childhood? Or had her appearance taken Rue by surprise? Had Rue become transphobic in the years that had passed since they met? </p><p>Frustrated with herself and the incessant what-ifs and should-haves, Jules tipped the last of the coffee into her mouth and turned her back on the busy street to re-enter the building, hoping she could focus on her work for the remainder of the afternoon. </p><p>She managed to make it through the next few hours of wishing the clock would move faster, but forced herself to stay until everyone else had left. She wished her friends and coworkers a good weekend as they departed, claiming she needed to stay late to finish some things and promising to join them next time. </p><p>As soon as they had gone, Jules pulled her coat on, turned out the lights, and headed out on what seemed to be a new ritual. </p><p>The first couple of nights of her search she had stuck close to the club where she’d seen her that night, just hoping she’d appear again. If Jules was right about the brief exchange between Rue and the clubgoers she’d witnessed, Rue’s occupation likely involved circulating the nightlife scene. </p><p>When that approach yielded no results, she expanded her search and took to walking loops of several blocks around the general area. Jules didn’t mind this since she loved walking and it kept her warm, but she couldn’t help but wonder if it was all in vain. The endless loops contributed to a feeling of dreamlike repetition that had Jules questioning if she had ever really seen Rue at all. </p><p>Jules walked for hours until her feet hurt and the exhaustion from the week began to settle in her bones. She started to bargain with the universe, with god, with fate, with anything that might listen. If she could just see her one more time, just so she could know she was real, she’d never want for anything else. </p><p>And then she was there. </p><p>Up ahead, moving toward a club down the street. She didn’t hesitate this time. </p><p>“Rue!” she called. </p><p>The figure stopped and turned quickly. Jules saw the recognition dawn on her face again before a hardened look of frustration replaced it as she caught up to her.</p><p>“Look, unless you’re looking for drugs, I can’t help you. Got it? I’m not who you’re looking for. Trust me.”</p><p>“Yes you are,” Jules insisted, blinking back tears that were suddenly springing to her eyes. “Please, Rue. Can we just...talk?”</p><p>But Rue was backing away and shaking her head. </p><p>“I’m on the clock, I don’t have time for this. Just leave me alone. Save yourself the trouble and go Jules.” </p><p>Jules froze at Rue’s use of her name, the confirmation that she knew her, and in that time, Rue turned away from her and entered the club, leaving Jules on the sidewalk. Jules considered following, but she didn’t want to do this in some loud, grimy fucking club. She wanted to be alone with Rue and hear her voice clearly. So she leaned against the brick wall and settled in to wait. Rue had to come back out sometime, and she would be there waiting. </p><p>Ten minutes passed, then twenty. No Rue. Jules stood shivering, determined to wait until she emerged and passed the time trying to put together what she would say. </p><p>“Juuuuuules,” a voice drawled from behind her. </p><p>Her blood ran cold. She knew it was him before she even turned around to see him closing in on her. No, not him. Not now. She had been so focused on her search for Rue that she hadn’t paid enough attention to where she was. This was his territory, his hunting grounds. She glanced around desperately, looking for an escape route or another person on the street, but she was alone. </p><p>“I thought that was you, haven’t seen you in awhile baby,” he said, looking her up and down in a way that made her skin crawl. </p><p>“I’ve just been….busy,” she answered, trying to keep her voice from shaking. </p><p>“I know,” Nate answered coolly. “I‘ve seen some of your stuff in magazines. Didn’t think you’d forget about me so quickly. About how you got there.” </p><p>A small, sinister smile spread across his face and he stepped closer, towering over her. </p><p>“You remember, don’t you?” He murmured, reaching up to brush his fingertips across her cheek. “You look cold, why don’t you come home with me?” He was using that voice. The one designed to lure his prey into a false sense of security. </p><p>Jules suppressed a shudder. The smell of alcohol on his breath made her feel sick to her stomach. She stopped breathing and turned her head to the left to avoid his gaze.</p><p>That’s when Rue exited the club. Jules watched her bow her head and quickly count a handful of bills before folding and pocketing them. Jules couldn’t call out to her, her voice stolen by panic. She felt Nate’s hands close around her wrists. Rue looked up and started walking down the sidewalk toward them but stopped short in her tracks when she spotted Jules and locked eyes with her. </p><p>Jules tried to communicate through her gaze. <em>Help me</em>. </p><p>A moment that contained an eternity passed, then Rue was striding quickly toward her. </p><p>“What the fuck, Jules?” she called with an irritated look on her face. “I’ve been looking for you in there forever,” she said, gesturing over her shoulder at the club. “Why didn’t you text me you were already out here?! C’mon we gotta go, Austin says he’s waiting for us around the corner and Alana and Luke are on their way.”</p><p>Jules looked at her blankly, her brain clouded with fear. </p><p>Nate’s attention was diverted as he focused his gaze on the interruption. “Oh you got some new friends now, huh?” he questioned but Jules saw his confidence waver at the mention of other men nearby. Blessedly, he fell back a step, releasing her wrists. </p><p>“Are you coming or what?” Rue demanded impatiently. “Austin’s gonna be pissed if you ditch us again for some random hookup,” she added, throwing a disdainful glance at Nate who raised his eyebrows at the challenge. </p><p>Jules looked back at Rue with that deer in the headlights feeling, knowing vaguely that she was supposed to play along, but not exactly on top of her game at the moment. </p><p>“Y-yeah,” she stammered finally. “I’m coming.” </p><p>She knew this was the part where she was supposed to move, to get the fuck out of that suffocating space between Nate’s body and the brick wall against her back but her legs felt numb and she found herself stuck. </p><p>Rue seemed to understand and stepped in to grab her hand and pull her away. Jules followed unsteadily, gripping Rue’s hand like a lifeline as she struggled to keep pace with her. Involuntarily, she glanced back over her shoulder to see Nate watching them retreat with cold, cruel eyes. Like a predator, debating if he should give chase. </p><p>“Don’t look back,” Rue hissed under her breath, giving Jules’ arm a tug and pulling her phone up to her ear with the other hand as if to answer a call. “Hey Austin,” she said. “Yeah, yeah we’re on our way,” she continued, infusing her voice with exasperation. </p><p>They rounded the corner finally and Rue’s acting ability had Jules half-expecting some guy named Austin to actually be there waiting for them. But the street was dark and empty and Rue continued walking with determination. It wasn’t until they had travelled several blocks to a well-lit street with more activity that Rue slipped her hand out of Jules’ and stopped, turning to face her.  </p><p>“Your mom ever tell you not to walk around alone at night?” Rue asked with a bitter sarcasm coloring her tone. </p><p>“No,” Jules answered weakly, wrapping her arms around herself. Her mom hadn’t offered her much valuable advice in their time together. “Your mom ever tell <em>you</em> that?” </p><p>Rue narrowed her eyes. </p><p>“Yeah,” she answered icily. </p><p>“So what’re you doing out on your own?” Jules pressed, desperate to keep Rue talking to prevent her from disappearing. </p><p>“You don’t work, you don’t eat,” Rue responded simply. “And you?”</p><p>“Looking for you,” Jules replied without hesitation. </p><p>Rue looked at her for a long moment, her face unreadable. </p><p>“You don’t need to do that,” she said finally. “I have enough people lurking around me.” </p><p>“Yes I <em>do</em> need to,” Jules countered. </p><p>“Did you know that guy?” Rue asked abruptly. </p><p>“Um, just a psychotic ex,” she answered evasively, not wanting to get into all of <em>that</em> now. </p><p>She could feel her legs again finally, the only problem was they felt like jelly and she swayed on her feet.</p><p>“Hey, are you okay?” Rue questioned with concern, stepping forward and reaching out to steady Jules with a hand on her shoulder. </p><p>It was a surprisingly tender gesture considering the hard-exterior she was presenting, but Jules flinched away from her touch involuntarily, still in fight or flight mode, and regrettably Rue withdrew her hand. </p><p>“I’m fine,” she replied, determined not to let this moment pass her by. She could fall apart and have a panic attack over what just happened with Nate later. “Can we talk? Please?”</p><p>Rue looked at her solemnly for a long moment before turning and walking away. </p><p>“You can buy me pancakes,” she called over her shoulder.</p><p>Jules wasn’t entirely sure what that meant. Like, did she mean right now? At 12:47 at night? But she followed, taking a few quick strides to catch up with Rue, then falling into step alongside her. They didn’t speak as they walked.</p><p>Rue led her to a diner another couple of blocks away and Jules felt herself relax as they stepped inside, realizing for the first time that she was shivering slightly either from the cold or the panic, she wasn’t sure.</p><p>Sitting in a booth across from Rue, Jules fully took in her appearance up close for the first time. She tried not to stare, but after years of picturing Rue in her head and imagining what she’d look like now, it was hard not to. </p><p>Rue had removed her bulky winter coat to reveal a fitted long-sleeved green t-shirt that hugged her frame. Jules made note of the rings on her left hand, the tattoo along her collarbone that peeked out from under the collar of her shirt. In the light, she was able to appreciate the variation of color in her curls which were dark at the root and glowing almost gold at the tips in places. She was beautiful. </p><p>Rue noticed Jules studying her and raised an eyebrow. </p><p>“You grew up,” Jules observed softly, almost surprised. </p><p>“So did you,” Rue laughed quietly. </p><p>Jules stayed silent, trying to commit that magic sound to memory. A waitress came and took their order and Jules got to hear her laugh again as she conversed easily with the waitress who seemed to know Rue well. </p><p>The food arrived quickly and Jules nibbled at hers while watching Rue eat like she hadn’t eaten in awhile. </p><p>“So….you sell drugs.” Jules said, keeping her voice perfectly neutral.</p><p>Rue frowned.</p><p>“I found a way to live,” she countered simply. “So did you, obviously,” she added, looking Jules up and down quickly and gesturing vaguely toward her, clearly referring to Jules’ attire.  </p><p>“Yeah, I guess,” Jules agreed, remembering that she was still dressed in her work clothes that basically screamed “I work in fashion”. </p><p>More silence settled between them then.</p><p>It was getting really late. Or early. Any second now, Rue could stand up and disappear. Maybe forever. If she was going to say it, it had to be now. </p><p>“Why did you leave me there like that?” Jules asked, her voice barely above a whisper. “You didn’t even say goodbye.” </p><p>Even to her own ears, her voice sounded childish, like it was her eleven-year-old self asking the question rather than her twenty-five-year-old self. </p><p>Rue looked down, twisting a paper napkin between her long fingers. </p><p>“My Dad was dying,” she began, speaking in the flat tone of someone who had numbed themself to the pain of a certain memory. “I already kind of knew that, when they dropped me off, but I think we all still had hope that he would get better. That the treatment would finally start working. But in just the few weeks I was at the Unit, he got a lot worse. Bad enough that my mom decided I needed to come home. So I could say goodbye to my Dad while he was still my Dad. I knew that’s what it was as soon as they woke me up. And I remember looking at you, thinking I should wake you up. But I couldn’t. I couldn’t say goodbye to you too. So I just...didn’t.”</p><p>Jules sat in stunned silence for a beat as she put together the pieces, remembering all of Rue’s irrational fears of death that she now saw weren’t irrational at all.</p><p>“Rue,” Jules breathed. “I’m sorry.”</p><p>Rue shook her head and shrugged with a sad smile on her face. </p><p>“Why didn’t you want to talk to me the other night?”</p><p>Rue looked up at her then, holding her gaze for a moment before she spoke. </p><p>“You were looking at me that way. The same way you always did when we were kids.”</p><p>“What way?” </p><p>“Like you were so excited to see me. Like I was good. Like….you loved me. Or something,” Rue laughed again, shaking her head like she didn’t really believe the words she was saying.</p><p>“I do love you,” Jules answered immediately. But then she remembered that they weren’t kids anymore, and maybe she couldn’t get away with saying stuff like that. “Or something,” she amended softly, earning a small crooked smile from Rue as she continued to stare down at the napkin she was now tearing into little bits. </p><p>“I’ve disappointed a lot of people in my life,” she admitted. “I didn’t want to disappoint you too.” </p><p>“How?” </p><p>Rue shook her head.</p><p>“That’s another story,” she sighed. “For another day.” </p><p>“So you’ll tell me...sometime?” Jules asked, desperate to know she would see Rue again. </p><p>Rue heard what she was really asking and pulled a crumpled receipt from her jacket pocket, flattened it on the table, scrawled something on it and slid it across to Jules. </p><p>“My number,” she said. “Now let me walk you home.”</p><p>“But then who’ll walk <em>you</em> home?” Jules quipped, standing and pulling her jacket on. </p><p>Rue laughed and shook her head again. </p><p>“Don’t worry about it.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Okay, Jules' episode?? Destroyed me. Can I get an amen?🥴</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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